Gold Edged Leaves
by volume
Summary: Harry escapes from his village as it is being attacked only to wake up in a stranger's home, but is it really? Slash AU, sometimes graphic abuse
1. Chapter 1

Harry always loved the forests at this time of year. The leaves were the fresh green of new arrival, just unfurled from budded branches. The small boy scarcely made a sound as he walked through the now damp undergrowth. The sky had given life just last night to the quiet paradise, freely giving moisture to the drying and dying roots of ancient willow.

Harry peered through the foliage of swaying braches to see the winking sun. It gave the willows outlines of gold. He knew that he shouldn't wander so far into the woodlands because of the elf kind, but on a day such as this he could not help but linger over his search for elger root and adder bane. Master Dumbledore would be highly incensed with him if he did not return with adequate amounts of each. He used this as his reasoning to stay longer (even when he knew Master would be even more angered).He had barely found any of either plant. Even if he did travel further then most, he would still not be allowed dinner tonight.

He had been walking alone in the forests for as long as he could remember. Now at the age of 15 (or was it sixteen?) it felt like a soft down blanket to hide under after some of master's more cruel nights or an old friend found on accident when searching for master's ingredients. The sounds of leaves rustling or a falling branch didn't startle him as they once had. Instead it gave him the comfort of a safe place to hide away that only he could know.

It's a shame he thought as a light breeze ruffled his unkempt jet hair. Master was calling him through the "thing" it started out as tiny pinpricks, but soon the pain would amplify if he wasn't at the house. He would never call it a home. He picked up his pace.

As he approached the tree line he noticed the noise. The smells were not the ones of stews cooking over fires or bread rising in the oven, but of gun powder, smoke, and burning meat. The air was filled with crackling of a holocaust. Wood and Human.

The young boy peeked out from behind a tree then wished that he hadn't. Dark men scurried all throughout the village, like flies over a dead carcass. They dragged people by their hair, laughing as their victims screamed for mercy and sweet release.

One of the many dark men looked up and straight into his face. Harry ran deeper and deeper hearing the calls of a garbled language behind him. The "thing's" pounding ache steadily became larger as it swiftly beat out the pain in his legs and lungs. He could hear hooves begin to echo off of trunks of trees as they pounded mercilessly into the ground. They were going to get him, but he must try. Someone would surely help him, right? But at the same time he knew no one would care enough for "master's boy."

'No time to think on that,' he thought, 'just run.' And soon he was stumbling almost blindly as black appeared on the edge of his vision. It didn't take long for the pain to engulf him as he barely made a place for himself underneath a fallen log.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco Malfoy was scouting the perimeter of his family's manor holdings when he heard the horse. Without hesitation he followed the noise, careful to remain covered in the shadows. It was a good thing as he spotted the ugly Ministry Tribesman. It was strange to see one this far south, the young elf thought. After minutes of crashing through willow branches, the rider pulled in his reins causing the horse to stop. Draco noticed that the rider had whip-like lashes all over his face from the willows. It seemed Draco wasn't the only one mad at the break in peace. The rider huffed in what Draco thought was failure before turning around to go back to where ever he had come.

The elf stayed for a while to make sure the rider left. He was about to turn around when he heard a muffled moan. It came from a fallen log off to the other side of the clearing. Draco went to the sound, almost as if he were pulled.

Under the log he found a boy. He was quietly shocked because the boy's face was a mass of cuts and bruises. As Draco watched, the boy stirred. As his eyes opened, Draco wasastonished to see them as a bright, almost molten, emerald. Instead of screaming, as the elf thought he would, the boy quickly turned away from Draco. He tried to escape out of the other end of his hiding place. The young elf watched him try to stand only to fall back onto his hands and knees. Draco viewed as the emerald eyes rolled back into the boy's head. He fainted into a large pile of leaves as Draco scrambled to get to the boy on the other side of the fallen tree.

Draco picked up the child. He couldn't have been more than twelve maybe thirteen summers. His clothes were old and soiled, and dirt smudged across his face to match the full range of bruises. Before another thought passed, Draco apperated them to the manor. A sharp crack rippled the air.

The servants bowed their heads as Draco appeared in the manor's foyer. The room was huge with gleaming black marble floors and pristine white walls. A grand staircase rose from the floor to touch all four of the familial floors. Draco's mother was descending the stair with a look of confusion in her wise silver eyes. Her deep ebony dress contrasted sharply with her white blond hair, and seemed to flow like water around her as she approached her son.

"Draco what happened?" she didn't give him time to explain, "Hurry and put him in your guess room. I'll firecall Severus." Draco nodded and loped up the stairs, but immediately slowed as the boy whimpered at being jostled. He thanked all the gods that were listening that his room was closest to the apperation entrance.

Draco opened the door to his guest suite and gently placed his slight burden on the large four poster bed. A servant followed him in and he asked for towels and a bowl of warm water. He gently wiped the boy's face free of dirt and grim. He moved onto the child's forehead and found a lightening shaped birthmark. He quickly summoned his mother, remembering a discussion he had with his godfather a time ago.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco's mother hurried in with his godfather Severus closely following behind. She watched her son closely as he peered at the boy's face. He looked up just as his godfather made it to the other side of the bed.

"Uncle Sev, I think there is something that you need to see." With that he pulled the boy's bangs back. Severus paled. Surely there had been some kind of mistake. He looked closer just to be sure, and swore when it only solidified his assurances. A groan brought him out of his shocked state.

He began removing several jars and vials from his robes. "Draco, go get me some more warm water and hand towels. Everything must be sterile." The boy followed orders immediately.

Severus and Cissa began the easy task of removing the rest of the boy's clothing. Cissa had tears in her eyes and Severus's scowl deepened at the sight of the emaciated chest that was covered in old and new bruises, welts, and scars. Draco returned with the requested items, and gasped at what he saw. Cissa turned abruptly at the sound. "Draco, go get your father." He turned to do just that when Severus's voice cut the air, "Fire call Tom as well. Tell him to bring my red bag in my office. He'll know what it is."

Draco nodded and took off to run their errands again. With the picture of the boy stuck in his mind, he did not care for once.

* * *

After Draco's call the Riddle manor could be found a deserted shell. It took Tom a full minute to find the requested bag. After which, he asked a servant to prepare an extra guest room, close to his and Severus'ssuite as they were expecting a guest. He sent everyone on a day to rest after because he knew that they would need it once the masters of the manor returned.

* * *

"Is there something you need Draco?" asked the Malfoy patriarch as his son swept into his office.

"Yes father. Mother would like you to come and assist Uncle Severus. Father, they think they found that boy, the one that was taken from the Potters' house." Draco babbled. Lucius nodded and swept out the room. Draco led the way.

"Where'd they find him?" his father asked.

Draco thought for a second, "Well I sorta of found him on the southern perimeter lands."

"And why, pray tell were you over there when I specifically told you to stay away?"

"I-"

"There is a reason that I told you not to go over there. Dumbledore is getting increasingly aggressive." Lucius gruffly replied. Luckily for Draco, Lucius spotted Tom as they came to the makeshift sick room. "We will talk about this later Draco."

Draco gulped as he watched the two powerful men enter the room.


	4. Chapter 4

The two men left Draco in the hall for just one second before he too followed them into the makeshift sick room.

* * *

"Tom" Severus's voice cut through the room when he saw his lover enter. Narcissa and him had just finished stabilizing the boy. His grandson. That bastard had his grandson.

"I need that bag now," he demanded. There was no time for that train of thought. He needed to make sure that the boy lived first.

A plate implanted in the boy's back slowly drained the magic from his blood. If they didn't get the device out soon, Severus didn't think the boy would have a chance. The plate sat right on top of the nerves that ran into his legs meaning that if it wasn't lifted the exact way that it was put in, then his grandson would never be able to walk again. The shock to his system could probably finish off what Dumbledore started. The carvings of the back of the metal showed exactly who the boy belonged too.

"Cissa, Tom I need your help with this part."

They both moved to where he indicated, having done this procedure before.

"Alright, at 3, I need everyone to slowly, Slowly pull up. Lucius, I need you to have those compresses in the turquoise potion immediately applied as soon as we're clear." Lucius nodded, already making his way over.

"Okay, 1, 2, 3 pull!" I sickening suctioning sound resounded as the thing was pulled from the boy's back. Draco only got glimpse of the raw muscle and bone before the compresses covered the grisly sight.

Blood quickly seeped through the first layers of compresses, but Severus said this was normal. The veins of a person's back as they grow tend to expand as they get older. Not much, maybe a few millimeters. Muscles do the same. People, like trees, when an object is in the way tend to have their bodies meld to foreign objects over long periods of time. As this object seemed to be implanted when he was mere months old, most of all of the child's growths spurts had to work around it. In essence, his veins, arteries, and muscles cemented themselves to and around the metal plate.

Even with the clot forming potions soaked into the cloth compresses, it still took an hour and a half for the blood to cease flowing. The boy was given several blood replenishers in hopes of balancing out the losses and hopefully prevent shock from setting in.

When they could do nothing more but wait, Severus spoke to Tom, breaking and building his heart at once.

The man was seated on a window cushion, looking at the empty air between his nose and the boy's sheet covered back. Severus walked over slowly, not exactly knowing how to form his words. How do tell the father of your murdered daughter and family that maybe his grandchild is alive? That he has been living in slavery as your time honored enemy's magical source? He didn't know, but he had seven steps to figure it out.


	5. Take over

All right. Here's the deal. I'm really busy right now with life in general, so if anyone would like to finish any of my stories they are more than welcome. **BUT **I would like to know who so that maybe I can read them. Thanks and sorry for the inconvenience.


	6. Chapter 6

Quiet, the air pulsed and constricted around him. His body throbbed with the pulsing of the air. He did not understand where he was or what had happened, only that the sickness of the past years had finally caught up to him. He remembered shapes and blurs, pale yellow and dark shadows, screaming, constricted air. He could not breath. Gasping, nothing went in. He would die here after everything. Great weight pushed down on his chest.

_Calm down_

A man's voice, but not scary. Why was it not scary? It felt soft, still crisp around the edges, but Harry had never heard someone speak so gently to him. This had to be a dream, a good dream. He tried to hold on, twist toward the voice. It hurt so bad, but the voice was nice. He did not care he wanted that voice to stay, and talk just to him. That voice spoke again, but felt further away this time. He struggled to hear it but could not make out the words. His body drifted back into the bad place.

* * *

Tom watched as his Harry struggled on the bed. He stood up and approached his grandson's side. A week passed since they found him and the only thing changed was the color of his bruises. This was the first time the boy even twitched. Tom thought of teh only thing that he could.

"Shh, calm down love" he softly crooned to the boy, afraid to even touch him for fear of hurting him anymore.

The boy shifted toward his voice then settled back into a deep sleep.

"Everything is going to be okay now love. You're safe" but Harry was to far gone to hear him.

He remembered when his Sev told him the news. It seemed a life time ago. He gave up hope a long time ago. When Sev asked for the red bag he did not want to hope, but he still could not help it. The bag contained a set of potions for paternity tests. When they had the boy settled, they found that without a doubt that this was his grandson.

Tears slipped down his cheeks. He missed so much and his own blood suffered so much. He could not do anything to change the past. Tom felt Severus sit down beside him. He cried into the shoulder, helpless for the first time in a long time.

* * *

This is crap, but I really wanted to start writing again. sorry it took so long, 


	7. Chapter 7

A dull ache spread from the thing. He felt empty and overwhelmed at the same time, but it was soft and calm where he was, like floating through dust motes in light as it played through the window.

He had to get up. Master would not be pleased, was never pleased, with sleeping in. The air held that predawn crisp chill to it still, so it could not have been late enough to totally upset Master. He did not want to think of the yet. Besides surely the ache of the thing would continue at the upset of his unaccomplished task yesterday. Hopefully that would be his only punishment as he could not go through with another discipline so soon. The thought of a discipline got him motivated.

His eyes felt so heavy today, like when Master had them sewn shut for a week after walking in on his _business_. Usually he could get up mighty quickly, but everything seemed like it was in slow motion. After a lifetime, he managed to open his eyes.

It wasn't right. Nothing was right.

* * *

Severus and Tom sat at Harry's side when he began to make small movements with his eyes and fingers. They held their breath as his eyes flickered open after some time.

Then Harry panicked.

Severus watched as his eyes widened and his lungs rattled as they tried to support his air intake as best as it could. Severus stood not a second later.

He grasped the boy's hand and brought it to his own chest, laying it flat over his own sternum and taking deep breaths.

Severus looked the boy in the eyes and said, "Harry everything is okay. Breath with me. You are okay. Everything is fine. We've got you. That's right, just breathe with me. You're doing great. Good boy. You are safe now. We won't let anything hurt you."

Harry finally seemed to understand after a little while. Tom was grateful. He had not known what to do or even if he should have done anything. Severus glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

Severus looked back to the boy, his grandson. "Harry, do you understand me?" The boy slowly nodded his head. His eyes seemed so large in the small face. "My name is Severus. You can call me Sev if you want to."

Harry's eyes wandered over to Tom. Harry held tighter to Severus's hand.

"And Harry, this is Tom. He's my husband. A friend of ours found you in the forest. We are so glad he found you Harry. You see, we are your grandparents."


	8. Chapter 8

"Draco, come with me," Lucius said as he left the sickroom.

Draco stood nervously, expecting it to come, but certainly not wanting it. He followed his father down to the foyer. Whenever he normally did something wrong he went to his father's study. He was never hit or anything like that, but that room. Something about that room screamed power and wisdom. The study was passed down from each generation.

Lucius held the door open. "Let's go for a walk, Draco."

"You know, when I was younger elves could go wherever they wanted without fear of harm coming to them. But Draco, times have changed. If I asked you not to do something there is a reason for that."

Lucius walked on for a while. When he spoke suddenly, his voice startled Draco, "We are happy that you found Harry though. He was in a bad place for a very long time. He is going to need help from everyone to start learning what is and is not expected of him. He needs to learn how to be happy, and how to interact with people his own age without fear. He has been scared for a long time Draco, and he is going to stay in that pattern until we show him that there are others ways to live."

They stepped through a clearing.

Draco's breath caught in his throat. Ash and support beams were all that was left of the village. The crops had been burned to the ground. Even the bricking seemed crumbling and charred.

"But this is not just about Harry, Draco," Lucius said softly, "You deliberately put yourself in danger of getting hurt, even killed. Draco, the people who did this do not care about who you are. Ministry Tribesmen live to destroy. I do not want anything to happen to you, and while I want you to help people, I need you to understand that we make these rules to protect you. We cannot loose you."

Draco could not look his father in the eyes. Lucius gripped his elbow. "Come on son. It's time to go home."

* * *

A/N so it's been a while. I just figured that six months was long enough to raise the suspense/frustration. No, I just needed to write something. Sorry for the wait. 


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